


The Fell Star Hunts

by Raikishi



Series: The Fell Star Consumes [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Anal Sex, Bottom Claude von Riegan, Chases, Creature Fic, Dragon My Unit | Byleth, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Human/Monster Romance, Interspecies Relationship(s), Mating Rituals, Overstimulation, Pegging, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Tail Sex, but with a tail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:06:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27354688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raikishi/pseuds/Raikishi
Summary: “Ah, ah – not this time, my star.” Claude says, burning as bright as a star himself, nearly breathless with the idea, “I run. You chase. You can have your prize … once you’ve earned it.”Claude suggests a mating chase.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: The Fell Star Consumes [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777048
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	The Fell Star Hunts

“A bridal run, Byleth!” Claude says in lieu of a greeting. He’s brimming over with excitement and spiced wine. She can smell the sweetness of it on his breath and spies a few droplets on his jaw. Claude laughs, batting at her cheek when she licks them off.

His scent is intoxicating, warmed and heated, full of desire – 

Byleth struggles not to lean into him, keenly aware of the buck on her shoulders. She lists to the left, angling the massive antlers away from Claude’s pretty face as she pulls reluctantly away from him.

Claude makes a faint impressed noise in his throat, reaching out to rub the fallen buck’s head.

“For me?” he asks with a sly little smile, batting his lashes. 

“Our hosts,” Byleth corrects, rubbing at the little pout that crosses his face. Maybe she should have brought him something as well. A hare or … something. Just to show she’d remembered. 

Regardless, he leans happily into her touch, eyes fluttering shut as one of the harpies takes her catch. The harpy makes a low noise, clattering in the back of his throat as he looks over the buck, golden wings twitching in excitement. 

“He says ‘thank you’,” their host, Kalik, translates. She’s partly vulture and partly human. Her form is enormous and muscular, finely honed like a predator. A many-fanged smile slashes over her mouth as she leans in, great tawny feathers brushing Byleth’s cheek. In her lap, her husband, Tulok, grunts at the shift, the feathers of his neck rustling up in agitation as he’s jostled, “The Fell Star’s reputation is well deserved. Fearsome even in such a slender human guise.”

Byleth shakes herself as she sprawls out before their fire pit. Her scales bleed out over her cheeks and jaw, itching a little as they pull into shape. She scratches absently at them, breathing out a low sigh of relief. It’d been far too many moons spent in human taverns, leashing the beast in her to a human guise. 

“It was my pleasure,” she hums as she stretches her wings carefully around the fire, angling them just close enough to bask in the heat, “It’s been a long time since I’ve hunted.”

“All the more reason for us to join the run,” Claude says. Byleth grunts as he bears his weight down over her back, his chin pressing against the crown of her head and his arms looping around her neck in a loose hold. He’s a long expanse of warmth between her shoulder blades, nearly as hot as the flames before her. 

“What’s this about a run?”

“It’s a ritual,” Tulok explains, sighing as his wife combs through his blue and red feathers. His eyes open in slits and there’s a faint amusement in his gaze as he looks from Claude to Byleth, “Before our harvest festival, we have a ‘hunt’ of sorts. Your mate runs. You catch.”

“It’s a … romantic holiday of sorts,” Kalik says in a tone of voice that reminds Byleth of Claude, full of hidden meanings and a deep amusement allowed to only someone in the know. She winks at Byleth as she rubs at the base of her wings for preen oil. Byleth watches as the harpy rubs it carefully over her husband’s plumage, entranced by the gentle way those fierce talons smooth over fine bone and delicate feathers. 

Tulok shrugs, humming a little as he arches into his wife’s touch “It was originally meant to mark the start of hunting season and the end of the harvest season. At the end, you pledge to share all that you would snare with your mate. In this season. And the next. It’s a time to renew your vows.”

“A time to renew our vows, Byleth,” Claude whispers in her ear, his voice pitched low with promise. There’s a low hunger rumbling through his words and she can feel the faintest twitch of his hips against the small of her back.

“What … happens when you catch them?” Byleth asks.

The two harpies look at each other, amusement bright as a star.

“It’s a time to reconnect,” Kalik says with a wicked grin. She winks at Byleth, _“Restake a claim._ ”

Claude shivers at Byleth’s back, minute and so fine she feels herself twitch. The old predator in her rumbling in response. The point of his nose pokes against her ear and the proximity fills her mouth with his scent, thick and bloated with desire. 

“You are more than welcome to participate,” Kalik says, her attention on her husband again. She nips at the tip of his wing, “I intend to win yet again this year.”

He smacks her for it, ignoring Kalik’s squawk to look at Byleth.

“We end the festivities with a feast. The buck will be a good addition. More meat is always welcome,” he smiles, “Some of us can be … overzealous during the run.”

“I do like a feast,” Claude chirps as if his mind were on anything but the run. He shifts against Byleth’s back, hips digging against the small of her back as he breathes into her ear, “Don’t you, my star?”

“You are more than welcome to join. The runners leave the western gate at midnight,” Kalik says. She tilts her head at Claude, her gaze appraising in a way that makes Byleth draw up a little straighter, claws itching in response to the slow appreciate drag of another predator’s eyes on Claude’s body.

“Be careful with your human. We wouldn’t want him to come to any real harm,” Kalik says, revealing sharp fangs, “Such a delicate beauty could be easily stolen.”

Her husband chirps something in their tongue, nipping at her jaw with viciously sharp teeth. She gives him a look, indulgent and amused as she draws him closer, razor claws digging into the thick scruff of feathers around his neck. She bows over him playfully, her wings spread wide as she bares her teeth over his face, uttering a series of growls and clicks.

Byleth coughs, excusing herself. She yanks at Claude’s arm, practically carrying him away. 

“We’re welcome to join, Byleth,” Claude repeats in her ear. His breath is warm against her, faintly sweet.

Byleth tilts her head to kiss him but he ducks her, twisting to drag his teeth over her earlobe. His tongue tracks the divot just behind her ear and he shivers against her as her hands turn to claws. Claude grinds against her shamelessly, hand fisting in her hair to tug her in for a kiss that sears her through. She fits her hands around the curve of Claude’s waist, feeling out the bulk he’s packed on in their years on the road. Hunger stirs slow and lazy in her chest.

She nips at Claude’s lips, fitting his mouth to hers. Wanting to consume. Wanting – 

Something silver and sharp flashes in her periphery. Byleth steps back just as one of his arrows scrapes the hollow of her throat. The pointed edge runs the length of her collar as he wiggles his eyebrows at her, looking too damnably smug despite the flush on his face and the heavy tremble in his breath.

Byleth takes a step forward, frowning when the arrow points more insistently against her. She scents a poison on it, spiced just like the wine she’d licked off Claude’s tongue.

“Claude.”

He hushes her – and doesn’t that make the dragon in her roar – eyes dark as he lets the tip trail up her throat. It digs against her jaw and then flicks up, just on the very edge of drawing blood. 

It’s just them and the night again. Byleth’s brazen prince dressed in gold and poison, holding an arrow to her face as he threatens her with marriage.

“Ah, ah – not this time, my star.” Claude says, burning as bright as a star himself, nearly breathless with his offer, “I run. You chase. You can have your prize … once you’ve _earned_ it.”

* * *

“I was feared once,” Byleth grouses as she shifts unsteadily on the gate. 

Kalik titters at her, the feathers of her neck rustling with her breath, “Oh, you are still quite fearsome.”

“Am I?” Byleth sighs examining her hands, watching the scales blink and then disappear like winking stars, “I never imagined being encouraged to hunt by my prey.”

“Is it much fun being feared?” Kalik asks, her own wings stretching out to blot the skies. She kicks into the air, looping above Byleth’s head in slow circles. The feathers of her neck rustle with her breath, “The legends say the stars are lonely beings and the skies are cold. If you would prefer your silent prey to an eager prize … well, we have many who would be more than happy to take him off your hands.”

Before Byleth can retort, the harpy’s launched herself away, leaving behind a stupefied Byleth and a flock of harpies doing their best not to look their way. Their avoidant gazes do little to hide the little spark of bloodlust that rumbles through them, underscored by cautious hunger characteristic of carrion beasts roaming around the edge of a fresh kill. One particular harpy flashes a many-fanged smile, desire bright as a bolt of lightning. Byleth watches the shadow of his wings lurch into the air and then vanish, tracking the direction of his flight towards a familiar scent.

It’s enough to stir something feral deep in her chest. 

The core of her pulses, cold and aching, familiar hunger burning in her blood as she leaps through the gate. She sucks in a breath, the autumn chill spiking her tongue and the inside of her mouth, bringing with it the intoxicating familiar scent of her Claude. 

Almyran pine needle and bitter poison. Deep earth and spiced heat all at once. 

Overlaid with a stranger’s scent. Ginger and bitterroot. 

Byleth hears herself growl and the woods howl in response. Her breath burns the air, smoke tinging the white clouds she leaves behind. The autumn chill bites at her cheeks, a razor whip of wind that curls her hair and cracks over her scales. A cold hunt but she’d always done well in cold and darkness. It sharpened her senses, dragged out the emptiness and greed from her core and made her keen. 

She remembers her nascent years as a fallen star, remembers the way hunger had burned into her skin and made itself her blood, recalls how her teeth had itched growing out and her hands had bled as they stretched out in the darkness, in search of starlight and heat.

The old predator in her bites at its muzzle, roaring in her blood as she runs, her gait damnably _slow_ in her human guise. She can smell her prey, the scent of him on the earth as bright as a path of starlight, beckoning her forward, luring her in.  


The edges of the scent muddle with a stranger.

Ginger and bitterroot. 

A golden feather drifts towards her and she hisses, her scales bleeding over her face and chest. The predator in her growls, clawing at its leash. A sibilant snarl burns her throat as she bows her head to the earth, inhaling deep, holding the breath in her body. She didn’t need to breathe but her body twitches with the loss of air – caught in the memories of her human guise. 

They’ve spent far too long in human territory. Spent too long hiding her in a form that was no longer hers.

Her claws itch, hands twisting into talons. Her clothing tears, fabric pulling taut over her calves, rubbing thin on her scales. Byleth inhales again and does not breathe it out. The scent curls over her tongue, thick as honey, making her salivate. She ignores the harpies calling overhead as they seek their mate on the sheer face of a cliff. Hers would be found on earth, his feet on the ground, a smile on his face, beckoning her close.

She can nearly taste his excitement, the emotion sparking the edges of her awareness like little flames. His scent calls for her sweetly. She could find him blind. From a thousand miles away. Could pick out the speck of him on earth even were she to return to the stars.

Byleth lurches into a graceless run, stumbling as her wings pull free of her shoulders. They’re too large for her to be graceful on land but she ignores the sight she makes of herself, letting her body carry her forward in long strides. There’s no room for thought or second guesses, only the slick sweet honey of desire and the starlight scent trail left behind by prey.

Her teeth gnash together in a grind like rocks, her mouth bleeding with fire and old starlight. The beast in her bridles, begging to be let free. It’s the same urge that’d guided her first hunt, taught her to sink her teeth into the core of stars and drain the heat and nectar of their center. The same one who’d taught her to crave that explosive strength like an addict.

She yelps as something trips her, a spell leashes at her throat, twisting over her wings, her arms, tying her together as if the Fell Star were the sort to be bound by human trickery –

Claude’s scent lashes over her nose and jaw, twisting in an attempt to bind her. Tempting as it is to allow herself to be caught in the sweet promise of her husband she would much rather lay her teeth to the very core of her prey – 

She shatters the spellwork with a snarl, tearing the papered traps that’d adorned the pair of trees around her and etching deep wounds into the bark. Her cry echoes over the earth, bleeding down into the dirt and mud, shaking the very core of the planet, something old and other at the very base trembling beneath the predator that stood on its surface. She’d devoured starlight far larger and much older than this new green. Was too powerful for this fledgling earth. 

The harpy songs go silent and then eager, lilting in shrill cries, a buzz of excitement sweeping through the flock. 

Byleth spies a pair forming in the air as she races through the woods – Kalik tackling her husband from the skies in a flurry of wings. Blue and red beating against tawny brown as Kalik bites her husband’s shoulder. The pair of them singing, the pairing scent cloying and sweet. The promise that Byleth could have exactly that –

She twists just in time to avoid a pair of arrows. Spiced poison. 

She swears furiously as another, better hidden, crossbow fires into her thigh. A paralytic. Numbing in the sharp striking way rhizome is, underscored by heat. Byleth lists sideways as she rips it clean. Her core twists, crying out for heat. For a body, lithe and eager, burning with its own sun –

She shakes the paralytic, her focus narrowed on his sweat. 

Claude’s scent lingers over the arrows and she can taste him on her tongue, fine dots of perspiration she’d spent all too many nights licking off his skin. She can hear him gasping, low uneven breaths of exertion. Her belly tightens at the thought of licking those sounds from his pretty mouth. His footsteps echo in her ears, rumbling over her tongue as she flicks it into the air. He’s running at full tilt, as he should have done the first night they’d met, when the fear and desperation had turned his skin into a sweet wood smoke. And ginger – 

She snarls again at the trace of a stranger. 

Ginger and bitterroot yet again.

It lingers on her starlight trail. Dares to cross over more than once. Another predator presuming to lay claim over what was hers. She spies gold and lunges. A harpy slashes at her face, massive talons razing over the bridge of her nose. Just a light scratch. A taunt and nothing more. He beats golden wings against her face, the tips of his feathers batting at her cheeks. 

The half-eagle grins at her, teeth nipping at Byleth’s jaw, his claw ripping at her chest, faltering a little when the center gives way to shapeless darkness. The smugness comes back quick enough, his expression going haughty. 

“To steal a hunt from the Fell Star – it would be my deepest pleasure.”

_And your very last –_

Byleth snarls, her breath molten, sizzling the feathers that spot her path, splashing over dirt and rock and scorching down a path into the earth. She lunges pass the harpy, reaching out for the promised claim, her body shouting at her, the old predator roaring at her to –

She slams into a tree. Hard enough the oak creaks, trembling beneath her bulk, tearing up from the very root. A startled cry lights the air and she spies a pair taking off from the treetop. Hears the breathless chuckle of her rival before he vanishes, leaving behind –

Spiced poison. Almyran pine needle. 

She twists her head in search, a growl on her tongue, dripping off the forked tip. She scents the air for –

A cloak.

“Fucking – “ she swears fitfully under her breath as she holds the fabric to her nose, breathing in the deep heat, letting it settle in her belly. Her cunt clenches at the taste of him. Her fingers dig against her lower belly, at a different heat as her tongue treks over – 

Something bitter. 

Ink. 

She tilts her head at the golden cloak, spying a demand etched on the fabric –

_Run faster, my star._

Teasing little –

She nearly tears through his cloak in righteous rage, delight and eagerness bleeding out the annoyance that’d shaken her core. 

“Fine,” she mutters, tying the fabric to her waist. His scent has gotten further away, running in twisting paths around the harpy that’d clawed at her. A star and falling debris in orbit around another giant, two paths on the cusp of meeting but never to do so. Not if she has a say in it.

She lets her form bleed out entirely, shedding the human from her completely. The shift warps her body with a deep satisfying pop, the sesnsation like cracking her knuckles. The earth opens up to her in a different way. She can see the core of it, molten promise – enough to feed her for a lifetime and a half. The stars stretch up over her head. She can see them all, blinking and beckoning her home. Some cheering her hunt. Others taunting her claim just as the harpy had done.

She runs as if she were flying in the skies, weightless and untouchable. Dimly, she’s aware she passes the harpy yet again, feels the beating of frightened wings against her shoulder but pays it no heed. She’s too busy tasting the starlight trail, letting it pour into her mouth with the autumn air, draining the lingering heat from the night’s chill. She can taste him. 

Her prince.

Her Claude. 

Bright and eager and so very daring –

Claude twitches when she spies him but does not look back, his shoulders shining with a fine layer of sweat, his hair tousled by the wind and a mess over the nape of his neck. Byleth snaps his last trap in two beneath her feet, grinding crossbows to dust and tearing yet another tree from its roots when he tries to swerve around it to dodge her. The distance between them closes, the promised heat becomes reality. Byleth sets her hand over his back, her thumb notching at the very base of his spine.  


“Ah, ah,” Claude tries to taunt.

Her limbs coil as he ducks her grip, her tail lashing out behind her as she springs. Green eyes blaze, verdant and teeming over with life – just the same as the very planet they stand on. Claude kicks at her, catching the side of her leg, not quite strong enough to send her tumbling but Byleth goes anyways, falling on him with her entire weight. Claude yelps as her arm curls over his waist, one arm pinned between her chest and his hip. He scrabbles desperately against her shoulder with the other hand, trying to dislodge himself, squawking like one of the harpies as he claws at her. She just narrowly misses bashing his head against the floor, twisting them so that she, alone, bears the brunt of the impact.

Her tongue slithers over his body, tasting the sweat from the fine curl of hair on his chest, twisting over his nipples, rolling them between the fork of her tongue the way he likes it best. Claude writhes against her, panting greedily though he still struggles to escape. 

A set of teeth dig into her jaw, sinking just deep enough to bypass the protective edge of her scales, sinking down into flesh, sparking bright notes of pain. In retaliation she claws at his legs, letting him feel the bite of her claws against his inner thigh.

He bites her again and she snarls, spying something silver and gleaming in his mouth. She shoves two fingers into him to wrestle it out, bracing against the petulant bites he nips out against her knuckles.

“Really?” she sighs at the teeth extensions, silver and sharp, and no doubt pilfered from the chimera they’d stayed with two moons prior, “I would accuse you of being a shameless cheat and very poor loser – _tch!_ ”

He slams his face into her jaw, knocking her teeth together hard enough her vision blurs for a half-second. Just enough time for him to wriggle out from beneath her. He dances away from her, slippery as koi as he scrambles to his feet. 

Byleth is past playing. Beyond his tease.

She whips out with her tail and does not bother to cushion his fall this time. She is on him the moment he touches the ground, laying her entire weight over him, one hand braced on the back of his neck, squeezing just hard enough he trembles and gasps. She scents blood on his palms and pins a wrist to the ground, lapping up the taste of him with her tongue as he shudders beneath her. She feels him tense to kick again and lurches over his face to snarl heat and fire against his mouth. The green in his eyes blow out, lost to the dark of his pupils – greed like a black hole, her human mate is – as he ruts up against her, his cock ruddy and eager against the cut of her hip – when the hell had he gotten naked?

“It’s a hard run,” Claude replies – ah, she’d spoken aloud. He pets at her mouth, mindful of the fire rolling over her lips – they blaze just out of her control tonight, “It’s – _ah_ – hot.”

“Well, I’ve caught you,” Byleth sniffs. She plants her face in the crook of his neck, deeply pleased when he shudders beneath her, “Are you going to behave now?”

“Depends,” Claude bites her again, nails digging into the sensitive spot at the nape of her neck, just to the left of the knob of her spine, “Are you going to claim me properly?”

He tugs his leg back, ready to kick and she slams him into the ground hard enough he quivers and goes limp, one thigh caught between her legs and the other twitching beneath her grip. He licks his lips, his mouth parting in a gasping “O” as her tongue snakes down his chest. His cheeks flush and she can taste the blood roaring beneath his skin, a liveliness rivaling the core of a star blooming over her tongue and drawing her in.

He claws at her shoulder, twisting futilely beneath her, only succeeding in rutting his cock against the crook of her hip. She sighs at the flex of his thigh against her crotch, letting herself rock against him as she twists her tongue around his cock. Claude yelps at the touch, his cheeks flushed dark as the fork of her tongue pinches over the crown, laving up over the head, slow and teasing over the slit. 

“Ooh – _fuck_ ,” he gasps as she grinds down on his thigh, her eyes fluttering shut as she loses herself to the scent of them. 

Of petrichor and earth, spiced heat and –

She blinks, scenting a stranger. Ginger and bitterroot. A familiar intruder’s scent. She snarls, the sound echoing in the woods, shaking so loud the ground quakes. 

Claude scrabbles at her shoulders, his heartbeat thudding like the pound of the buck’s hooves. Bright eyes blink up at her, enormous and doe-like, his head listing to the side as his expression stalls, caught halfway between lust and fear. His body is quicker to catch up, grinding against her hip. The air fills with his breathless pants as she strokes his cock absently. She’s noses at his neck, trying to source the scent, wondering why it hung so close, so –

She tugs at his hair, frowning at the golden feathers bound in his braid. 

“Ah – that was a gift,” Claude says, a little half-smile twitching his lips. He bats his lashes, “Ah, my dear, I didn’t know you could you smell that – well, did it provide you a decent incentive as least?”

Fucking tease.

Claude yelps as she yanks his legs upwards. He mewls as she licks down over his shaft, cock twitching as her tongue coils around his balls, yowling as she slips further downwards to stroke his taint. She watches him writhe, sweat-slick and beautiful, tearing up grass blades as he humps the air, heat rising from overheated skin as he rocks desperately on her tongue. 

She sputters, tasting oil. The taste is dull over her tongue and makes her spit.

“Always prepared,” Claude winks at her, reaching down to pet himself.

“You’re such a –“ Byleth cuts herself off, slotting her mouth over his. It’s difficult to kiss in her draconic guise but Claude tries anyways, entire body molding to her as he licks over her fangs, stroking her tongue with his –

“Ow,” he gasps, peeling back. The darkness of her chest smooths over his skin, ready to consume. 

“Sorr–“

Claude shakes his head frantically, bearing down against her, arms braced against her shoulders as he pushes himself against the dark, a heavy cry burning the air as the darkness creeps over him. She can taste him differently this way, the very core of him bleeding into her. A lifetime in Almyra, a childhood of poison, an adulthood of schemes and cleverness. The taste of him snaps over her tongue in a thousand glittering flavors. 

Byleth’s entire body shakes like the stars she’s devoured, trembling on the edge of collapse. The cold in her has burned away. She breathes out ancient light and dangerous heat. The human in her has vanished to smoke and dust, leaving behind hunger itself. She slams her prey to the ground, tail slithering, hot and eager between her legs, rubbing over her wet folds, toying with her slick before winding around Claude’s thigh, the tip nudging at his opening. 

She could break him if she wanted to. It would take nothing to hurt him. The tree that’d fallen in her hunt had been years older and succumbed to absent strength. How thoroughly could she take him apart if she’d truly put thought to it? She could shatter him down to nothing and grind him to dust. Devour him until nothing remained but a lingering –

Green eyes gleam at her, daring and wild, more than a little feral as he rocks himself on her tail. He shouts as she fucks into him, exhaling her name like a prayer –

As if she were truly a goddess and not simply a half-formed vessel.

Power roars through her as it had on her first hunt, enter body splintering through with the heat of him. 

She fucks the orgasm from him quick and fast, thrusting shallow and greedy into the welcoming space of him, her claws digging deep marks into his ass. His cock grinds against her belly as she fucks him faster and faster, wanting only to claim. Her teeth track the slender curve of his throat. Gently at first and then vicious, stirred by the gasping mewls that fill the air.

“B-Bylet –“ Claude tries, her name fast dissolving into a moan so wanton Byleth burns with the plead. 

The stars she’d devoured in her early days had never filled her with such heat. Never sated the cold emptiness at the very core of her.

She sinks her tail in just a little too rough, a little too fast, stretching Claude out with just a little too much of her length and he begs for more, gasping and whining eagerly until he bucks against her stomach and spills messy over the core of her. She shudders at the taste of him, watching white spunk vanish to the darkness in her chest, the taste of him rocking her through so hard her head spins.

Claude chuckles, hysterical and breathless, “S-oh, I’m sure that’s a little sacrilegious.” 

There is something twisting in her - the Goddess or something other -overwhelming and unstoppable, a collision of heat and frantic energy burning her through.

She fucks him through his orgasm, the point of her tail rubbing hard against something rough that makes him shriek and dig into the ground, his nails carving up dirt and grass as he tries to twist away, fists pounding against the ground as she licks up the desperation pooling in the divots of his back. 

“Wa- oh Goddess – _fuck_ _,_ Byleth! Give me a - _fuck_ \- minute -” 

For all his complaints, Claude still suckles obediently at the finger she shoves in his mouth, tongue twisting over her knuckles, laving attention over the space between her fingers, desperate whines groaning louder and louder as she shoves into him from both ends.   
  
She watches greedily as the ring of muscle surrenders before her, stretched taut around the thick part of her tail. Claude screams again as she angles her tail against his prostate, head knocking against her chin as he arches in a tight line, his hands grasping for her thighs, shaking as he tries to push away.

He’s not hard – definitely not so soon but she can amuse herself. Byleth bears down on her own tail, shivering at the rough rub of scales against her clit, gasping as she ruts. She lets her tail push between her folds then down into Claude, her orgasm drawing up slow, coaxing coals into flames, stirred by the way her mate quivers, his legs trembling and weak and parted wide, one leg pressed to his chest and the other spread around her hip. The picture of vulnerability. His eyes glimmer as she fucks them both, his moans scraping soundless in his throat. She can feel something twist over him. A different taste, something in his blood, old – not as old as her – but old magic shaking its reins, snapping loose over his lower belly just as she comes.

“W-wha – _fuck–_ “ Claude slurs, orgasm drunk, his hand swipes at the Crest already fading into his skin.

His cock twitches against her, the head leaking steadily, half-hard and growing. He bats at her jaw desperately as she licks him, whining out senseless pleads that push her away and draw her closer simultaneously. One leg hooks around her back and she takes that for all the permission she needs as she fucks into him, deep and slow, entire body buzzing with the need to taste his pleasure again. She buries her tail into him, thick and fat, splitting him obscenely. She licks him all over, pouring over him with her entire being. The darkness in her chest slithers out to greet him, tracing past skin and smugness. Down into the very core of Claude – her Claude until she is choking on liquid heat, heady and overwhelming, burning out and out, just as with star deaths until she is shattering around him on a desperate cry, the edges of her collapsing, erupting into something enormous and gasping. 

Claude cums at the same time, entire body a live fire, burning as the stars did, his hands twisting painfully in her hair as he folds in half, crying out a noise that rivals her snarl, his spend painting his stomach and chest in long arcs of white. Byleth feeds on the taste of it, herself blind with pleasure, her mind bleeding out to nothing, shaking to pieces above her golden prince. 

She blinks back to Claude examining his arms and legs. There’s a messy arc of claws on his inner thighs. A few fingerprint bruises on his lower belly. One massive bruise loops a circle around a leg and there are a series of dark marks down the entirety of his chest. He stretches out, poking at his own skin, expression slack with wonder.

“Owww,” he whines when he spies her looking. He twists his back to her and she brushes the sweat-slick grass and dirt off his skin as best she can. He leans into her, curling up beneath her larger form, a pout on his mouth as he splays out against her, “You look bigger today.” With a grin, “Certainly felt bigger too.”

“Thanks, dear,” Byleth replies drolly as she brushes his bangs aside.

“Was it the excitement of the chase? Go on – tell me I was right, my star. Nothing makes a prize sweeter than a successful hunt.”

Byleth scoffs, turning away and he tugs at her hair insistently, blowing a raspberry against her neck until she chuckles and bats at him.

“Perhaps … there’s some truth to that,” she mutters, curling over him to kiss him again. His eyes flash at her, a grin on his wicked mouth. He knocks against her jaw, slithering out from her the haven of her arms on trembling legs. The slick on his thighs gleams beneath the moonlight.

“You don’t sound certain,” he says, laughing low as he backs away from her, “Maybe we should test it again –!“

Byleth stirs, lulled by the promise. She grins as she advances, her tail whipping out behind her, leaving a trail of their scents, drifting over the air like starlight. 


End file.
